Here's an F'ing Poem

Burdens
by Chuck Baudelaire

This one is mine.

By its particular shape and size and weight
I know it, like an old friend
Who is now no longer so welcome
Because she brings more baggage
Than my small life can accommodate.

Still, this one is mine.

Yours has a length and width and breadth
That mark it as yours,
And you know it when it spills onto the floor,
And there's no sense in denying it's yours
Because of the family resemblance.

You keep yours.

Mine fits the curve of my back
And the shape of my thoughts,
Not comfortably, but still
Better the familiar burden
Than the weight of other, stranger problems.

So you keep yours.

Don't let it touch mine,
And I won't let mine touch yours.
On parallel tracks of parallel lives
Ours should never mingle.
A smile and a nod confer nothing.

Don't follow me here.

I have many more smiles in me,
Once I erect that curtain
Between the burdens I carry
And those you carry.
Until then, too much to smile.

Look - this one is mine.

This one is mine.

This one is mine.